


Drunken Ficlet: Hot

by greywash



Series: Drunken!ficlets [20]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-04
Updated: 2012-05-04
Packaged: 2017-11-04 19:23:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/397323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greywash/pseuds/greywash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>Drunken!ficlet, archived from Tumblr. Unbeta'ed and un-Britpicked, as always.</em>
</p><p><strong>Anonymous requested</strong>: John/Sherlock, post-return, the boiler must be broken because it's so *hot* in the flat, and it's such a change from the countless shelters, bedsits, and park benches he endured while ripping apart the spider's web.</p><p>As is often my wont with these things, I ignored the angst and brought the crack.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drunken Ficlet: Hot

"Really, John," Sherlock says, opening another button on his shirt, which is rapidly heading towards "gay porno." His cuffs are already rolled up, baring forearms still scattered with freckles. "I'm not at all certain it's healthy, having it this hot inside." Sherlock unfastens his belt, whisks it out from his beltloops with a snick and drops it on the floor. "Don't you feel... flushed?"

"No," John says, leaning back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest. "I feel fine."

Sherlock undoes another button.

"You, though," John says, furrowing his brow. "You—you look hot, do you have a fever? Here, lean down so I can feel your forehead."

Sherlock frowns, just for a fraction of a second, before his expression settles back into a bizarre rictus that John thinks he's seen on the covers of the kinds of romance novels they sell in the special shops.

"Parts of me," Sherlock purrs, "are... _scorching_ ," and then tosses his hair.

"That can be dangerous, you know," John says, keeping his face intent and worried. "Are you sure you don't—I could take you down to the surgery, you might need—"

"Really, John!" Sherlock says, dropping the act.

"Just say it," John sighs, and Sherlock scowls at him, then sighs, then says, "I'm sorry, I missed you terribly, fancy a shag?" and John pushes up to his feet, saying, "See, was that so hard?"


End file.
